Watching my chance, soon after we came out of church on this eventful occasion, I dexterously managed to fasten the fish-hooks with the crackers attached not only to different points of the master’s garments, but also to his hat; and, the scrunching of our feet on the gravel pathway from the village deadening the sound I made in scratching the match I used, I contrived to light the crackers before any one, save the boys immediately alongside of me, perceived what I was doing.
Everything favoured me.
Presently, whiz—crack—and the Doctor’s coat tails flew up as if by magic, swaying to and fro in the air, although there was no wind; and the fellows, smelling a “rat” as well as the burnt powder, began to titter.
“What is that?” said the Doctor, sternly, turning round and confronting us with an even more majestic deportment than usual.
Of course, nobody answered; but, the crack, crack, cracking continued, and in another minute, with a bang, off went Dr Hellyer’s hat!
Nor was that all. Putting up his hand, with a frantic clutch, to save his headgear from falling into the mire, it being a drizzling, mizzling, dirty November day, our worthy preceptor pulled away what we had always imagined to be a magnificent head of hair, but what turned out now, alas for human fallibility, only to be a wig!
This was a discovery with a vengeance; and, as might have been expected, all the boys, as if with one accord, shouted with laughter.
Dr Hellyer was speechless with indignation. He was mad with pain as well, for in clutching at his hat he had got one of my fish-hooks deeply imbedded in the palm of his hand—a sort of just retaliation, I thought it, for all he had made me suffer from his cruel “pandies.”
He guessed who was the offender at once, as he caught me laughing when he turned round, with the end of the smouldering match still held between my fingers.
“Oh—ah! It is you, is it?” he gasped out, giving me a ponderous slap on one side of my face with the big broad hand that was uninjured, which made me reel and tumble down; but a second blow, a backhander on the opposite side of my head, brought me up again, “all standing.” Still, although I felt these gentle taps, I could not help grinning, which, of course, increased his rage, if that were possible.